i Aesthetics and Identity: V.S. Naipaul and the Postcolonial Picturesque Noah Black Department of English Rhodes College Memphis, Tennessee 2011 Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Bachelor of Arts degree with Honors in English ii This Honors paper by Noah Black has been read and approved for Honors in English. Dr. Jason Richards Project Advisor ___________________________________ Dr. Michael Leslie Second Reader ____________________________________ Dr. Lynn Zastoupil Extra-Departmental Reader ______________________________________ Dr. Marshall Boswell Department Chair ________________________________________ iii CONTENTS Contents iii Abstract iv Introduction 1 Abandoned Landscapes in The Mimic Men 11 Cycles of Hybridity in A Bend in the River 28 The Hybrid's Redemption in The Enigma of Arrival 44 Conclusion 52 Works Cited 54 iv ABSTRACT Aesthetics and Identity: V.S. Naipaul and the Postcolonial Picturesque by Noah Black In three of his major texts, V. S. Naipaul explores the existential exile of his protagonists, who engage with their landscapes and natural surroundings in order to construct new postcolonial identities. Naipaul’s characters often aestheticize these landscapes in language that recalls the eighteenth-century philosophies of the sublime, the beautiful, and the picturesque. Through encounters with various landscapes both in England and its former colonies, Naipaul’s exiled subjects cultivate their postcolonial selves, which are, as Homi Bhabha would argue, inevitably hybrid, that is, the synthesis of two conflicted cultural identities that results in the formation of a third, transcendent identity. This project analyzes these encounters through instances of what I call the “postcolonial picturesque,” an aesthetic that allows us to explore the landscape’s identity- forming potential. I chart how the development of the postcolonial picturesque in The Mimic Men (1967), A Bend in the River (1979), and The Enigma of Arrival (1987) reflects the evolution of postcolonial hybridity in Naipaul’s work. Initially, in The Mimic Men, the characters’ debilitating obsessions thwart the realization of a transcendent hybridity. Then, in A Bend in the River, the postcolonial picturesque slips into sublimity and terror, as the chaos of postcolonial revolution overwhelms it. Finally, The Enigma of Arrival redeems this aesthetic by grasping its cultural utility and achieving at last a truly hybrid postcolonial identity. 1 Introduction The characters in Naipaul's novels who are separated from their homelands often desire a new connection with the natural world to replace the loss of the "landscapes hymned by their ancestors" (Mimic Men 38). The landscape is a foundation in which postcolonial people, especially in the chaotic movement (both physically and ideologically) of the twentieth century, can ground themselves. On this stable scenery, the characters fashion, or attempt to fashion, identities that encompass the tail end of monolithic empires and the subsequent postcolonial beginnings, an experience of negation and chaos. The critic Rob Nixon elaborates on this idea of the landscape‟s potential to portray post-colonial self-fashioning in his reading of Naipaul‟s pseudo- memoir The Enigma of Arrival (1988), where the narrator sees and constructs the British country landscape as a “postcolonial pastoral” (102). This view reconfigures purely English and imperial traditions of looking at and thinking about the countryside by inserting the narrator‟s own experiences as an immigrant (and self-imposed exile) from his colonial home in to the canon of landscape narratives. Through a wider use of aesthetic theories, transcending the genre of the pastoral, Naipaul presents a complex picture of the potential for self-representation inherent in the landscape. Bending the environment towards this representational goal isn‟t an isolated occurrence in Naipaul‟s texts, as the protagonist and narrator of The Mimic Men, Ralph Singh, again uses landscapes to craft an identity, fusing his memories with those of others. Singh describes the process of extracting the specific identities of his expatriate friends through the recollection of images: 2 [I]t was possible . to draw out from one of our group [an] . adolescent secret of cycle rides along a dirt road to the red hills outside her town, in a state west of the Mississippi, to see the sun set . and from yet another an English Midland landscape at dusk, a walk among the moon daisies on the bank of a stream, an endless summer walk beside water, into a night scene, with swans; these, on the island, becoming pictures of a world now totally comprehended, of which I had ceased to feel I could form part of and from which we had all managed to withdraw. (67) In this instance of reflection, the memories of landscapes, embedded with the transience of dusk and with the act of exploring, are pieced together to form a world that is then, because of the character‟s self-conceptions, rejected. The fluid interplay of representation and imagery necessitates a way of reading Naipaul that seeks to examine both ends of this continuum, the aesthetics that exist in the landscape and the representation that the landscape is given, and in turn gives, to its viewers. Within this scene, the narrator Ralph Singh describes the different memories as “pictures,” a judgment of visual quality that recalls the idea of the picturesque, an aesthetic that seeks to combine art, the artificial creations of man, with nature. Naipaul's omnipresent scenery invites an aesthetic approach, but it is my reading locates specific elements, in both the vocabulary and the scenery itself, that recall of the picturesque. The picturesque, though, cannot be fully analyzed without understanding its origins in eighteenth-century British aesthetics. This philosophical field stretches beyond the art-bound conceptions that exist today. The editors of the The Sublime define this nascent, Enlightenment idea of aesthetics as “not primarily about art but about how we are formed as subjects, and how as subjects we go about making sense of our experience” (Ashfield 2). This definition of aesthetics is necessary not only to the formation of the picturesque, but also to Naipaul‟s texts, particularly his landscapes, which function as a canvas for meaning-making and the formation of identity. Central to both the eighteenth- 3 century‟s aesthetic development and to Naipaul‟s novels is the distinct aesthetic of the sublime. The Greek philosopher Longinus first examined this aesthetic, and his idea of the sublime as an always overwhelming emotional experience was the basis for the explosion of British aesthetic criticism in the eighteenth century. A central figure in these debates is Edmund Burke, who both separated the previously-entwined aesthetics of the beautiful and the sublime and imbued the sublime with political undertones, following the French Revolution. These aesthetic philosophies, grounded in the idea of the sublime and a concomitant ideological element, serve to unveil the ebb and flow of potential for agency, identity-formation, and disillusionment with oppressive systems, both on the individual and national level, which exists within Naipaul‟s landscapes. This project will examine the ways in which the multiple, clashing aesthetic modes of Naipaul‟s landscapes explore the difficulties of forming identity within the chaos of post-colonial existence. The essential element here is the difficulty of the formation, as the potential of the postcolonial moment is underlined with both fragility and a tendency towards (often self-destructive) violence. Harsher critics of Naipaul fixate on the hopelessness that these elements seem to impart, but Naipaul locates these not to attack developing postcolonial states, but to instead identify and explain the dangers that face individuals after the end of empire. This balancing act of two competing poles of knowledge, the imperial and the postcolonial, nostalgia and progress, finds a parallel in Burke‟s theories of the sublime and the beautiful. In his 1759 work, A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, Burke endeavors to separate the two titular aesthetic elements by delving into the specific feelings they bring up and by defining what 4 signifiers evoke these emotions. He defines the sublime as “whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger” and the beautiful as “qualities in things as induce in us a sense of affection and tenderness” (130, 145). In conjuring up ideas of pain and danger, the sublime engenders fear in the viewer. This evocation of an undesirable emotion is mitigated by the distance between the viewer and the source of dread. Burke specifies that only “at certain distances, and with certain modifications” can the terrifying be tailored into the delightful sublime (131). Proximity, on the other hand, heightens the pleasure of Beauty. Burke then grounds this emotional analysis by defining the concrete features that signify the two opposing aesthetics. Integral to the sublime are the constituent pieces of obscurity, infinity, and power, while beautiful objects have the opposite qualities: clarity, limitation, and delicacy. The second image described by Singh captures the presence of both qualities, with the “endless” walk along the river driven by a pursuit of the beautiful moon-lit flowers and swans. Neither the sublime nor the beautiful dominates. There exists a balance between the constituent pieces, albeit one that is more than its origins. Singh and his other expatriate friends, in a move inseparable from postcolonial existence, strive for the ideal of a transcendent collaboration. Their perfect collage of memories imbues each memory, and each rememberer, with meaning. Aesthetics alone cannot account for this semiotic mechanism at work in Naipaul‟s novels. Discussions of postcolonial texts are bound up in the ongoing politics of development and interaction between imperial centers and their former colonies. Even in the scene from The Mimic Men, Singh‟s friends fantasize about British landscapes, far removed from their postcolonial setting. The sublime, too, slips in to imperial discourse.